


Battleline

by gracerene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ALLEGEDLY, Age Difference, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auror James Sirius Potter, Aurors, Bottom James Sirius Potter, Businessman Draco Malfoy, Cross-Generation Relationship, Curse Breaker James Sirius Potter, Divorced Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Partially Epilogue Compliant, M/M, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), Mildly Dubious Consent, Mob Boss Draco Malfoy, Organized Crime, POV James Sirius Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Rimming, Seduction to the Dark Side, Top Draco Malfoy, Undercover Missions, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: The wizarding world believes James Sirius Potter works for his uncle as a Curse-Breaker, but the truth is that he's one of the Auror Department's most effective undercover agents. After months of waiting he's finally got a new case, but this assignment involves him going in as himself, without the disguises he's come to rely on. More importantly, he's meant to be taking down the one person long-suspected of being the most influential wizard in Britain's criminal underworld: Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/James Sirius Potter
Comments: 34
Kudos: 120
Collections: HP Cross Gen Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2020 [hp_crossgenfest](https://hp-crossgenfest.dreamwidth.org/)!
> 
> I was so excited to see this fest return this year and used it as an excuse to finally write this idea I've had for ages. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Thank you to MalenkayaCherepakha for the beta! :)

_The battleline between good and evil runs through the heart of every man.  
-Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn_

James's heart raced as he made his way towards the Auror Department, taking the now-familiar secret passages in order to avoid being seen. As far as the rest of the world knew, James had made it through the three years of Auror training only to decide the job wasn't for him. The _Prophet_ had had a field day, gleefully speculating on the supposed rift in the family as James declined to work for his father and instead took up a post working for Uncle Bill as a Curse-Breaker. It was all a little ridiculous, as if his dad was the type that needed his kids to follow in his footsteps, but that was the _Prophet_ in a nutshell. In the end, they'd done nothing to quell the rumours—if anything, they subtly played them up, knowing that separating James from the Aurors and his father would make it easier to do his job.

The one the rest of the world didn't know about.

He actually _did_ work as a Curse-Breaker some of the time; not only for his cover, but because the Undercover Division had strict rules about spacing out assignments and he needed some way to pass the months while he waited for a new case that required his particular skill set. It had been four months since his last job and he was already itching to get back into the field. That last one had been difficult—anything to do with children always was—and he understood why his superiors were hesitant to send him out again so soon. James could admit it had fucked him up a bit, having to work with such vile humans, pretending to be one of them, knowing that innocent children were being trafficked and harmed while he did nothing to help them. Of course, he wasn't doing _nothing_ , but his work always took time if he wanted to ensure they put away the person at the top and shut operations down for good. They'd got there, eventually, but it had been a devastating several months, and he'd all but lived on his Mind Healer's sofa in the aftermath.

But he'd been cleared six weeks ago and he'd been anxiously waiting ever since, eager to disappear into the skin of somebody else. He always got like this when he had to go too long between assignments. It was almost as if James didn't feel quite real when he was in his own skin. His Mind Healer would probably have something to say about that, too, if he was ever foolish enough to tell her. So he'd actually fist pumped this morning when he got the nondescript Ministry owl with his generic summons, knowing what it meant. Thankfully he lived alone and there was nobody to see his embarrassing celebration but, frankly, James wouldn't have cared if there had been. This was it. He had another case.

He made it to his supervisor's office without meeting another soul, knocking on her door in the standard pattern to let her know he'd arrived.

"Come in," Lowell called out, and James stepped hurriedly inside, closing the door behind him.

He took in the room with some surprise as he made his way over to one of the open chairs. Lowell was there, of course, as was Hayes, James's usual handler and Ministry contact while on assignment, and Dalton, the Deputy Head Auror who often oversaw these initial case meetings in place of the Head Auror. Which was why it was so surprising that James's dad was _also_ in the room, flashing James a strained smile as James took a seat. The last time Harry had been at one of these meetings was for James's very first assignment. Whatever James was being asked to do, it was big, and his dad did _not_ seem happy about it. A thrill of excitement raced down James's spine—he'd never really outgrown enjoying things his father disapproved of.

"I'm sure you're aware that we've called you here because we have your next assignment, should you agree to it," Lowell said, her eyes darting uncomfortably towards Harry.

James's eyebrows rose. "Agree to it? I don't usually get much of a choice."

"This case is a bit different," Deputy Head Dalton broke in after a long pause. "We believe that you'll be most effective as yourself—that is, you won't be utilising a disguise. Given this more unusual approach, _some_ of us felt"—he gave his boss a pointed stare that James's dad resolutely ignored, making it clear who it was that had kicked up a fuss—"that it would be pertinent to offer you a choice, should you not feel comfortable moving forward."

"I see," James said neutrally. A part of him wanted to be pissed at his dad for interfering, and for the implication that he wasn't sure if James was up for the job. But they'd had this conversation early on in James's career, and James knew his dad respected his work. Harry had made an effort not to let his parental feelings unduly influence his oversight into James's job, which was part of the reason he'd delegated management of this division to Dalton in the first place. If he was stepping in now, it meant he was really worried, and James wasn't childish enough to dismiss that outright. His dad didn't get the Head Auror position because of his fame, no matter what the _Prophet_ insinuated. If he was concerned, there was good reason for it. James wasn't sure how he felt about an assignment that didn't involve a disguise of some sort, but he couldn't deny he was intrigued. "So what's the job?"

Lowell passed him a heavy file, and James's eyes widened as he flipped open the cover to reveal a glossy photo of a very recognisable figure.

Draco Malfoy.

No _wonder_ his dad was all tied up in knots.

The picture was from some gala or another, Malfoy dressed to the nines in the most expensive robes money could buy. He might have been the same age as James's dad, but he clearly took care of himself and his appearance; he looked fit as fuck in his midnight-blue robes, his chin-length blond hair perfectly styled and his white teeth gleaming in a shark-like smile as he sipped his champagne and posed for the camera. James hadn't ever actually met Malfoy, but he'd seen him enough in the papers and had heard plenty of unflattering things about him from his parents and the rest of his family growing up. Not to mention all the nasty rumours floating around the Ministry about him being involved in some _very_ unsavoury activities. Allegedly. The Aurors had never been able to get anything to stick and certainly not for a lack of trying. Was Malfoy just that good, or were the Aurors showing their bias? James hadn't ever been sure.

"Draco Malfoy," Lowell said after James had a few moments to flip through the folder. "Filthy rich pure-blood aristocrat, philanthropist, and all-around pillar of the community according to the PR firm that's been spinning for him for the past twenty-five years." Lowell's disgusted expression made it clear what she thought about _that_. "Unofficially, we've got him linked to over half the criminal enterprise in Great Britain. Money-laundering, illegal potions creation and distribution, trafficking in class XXXX and XXXXX magical creatures, and several prositution and gambling dens on Knockturn and across the country, to name just a few. Unfortunately, he's smart—or he's managed to put people smarter than him on his payroll—and his connection to all of it is insubstantial at best. We _know_ he's involved—in fact, we're rather certain he's at the top of it all—but we've been spinning our wheels like bloody Pygmy Puffs trying to get hard evidence that will stand up in court."

"And you want me to find it." It wasn't a question.

His dad nodded grimly. "We've had at least one active investigation on Malfoy running at any given time for the better part of twenty years, and we've yet to catch him with so much as a lapsed Apparition license. The Minister's not happy about dedicating resources to what she says is _a lost cause_. This undercover op is a last ditch effort before we're to close the books for good on the Malfoy case." It was clear that Harry wasn't happy about this decision, and he'd no doubt let the Minister know it. Which clearly hadn't gone well given the fact that he was even considering letting his oldest son get involved with this mess. 

"All right, so what's my in? And why no alias? Won't it be a lot more difficult for me to gain his trust as the son of Harry Potter? Not exactly low profile."

"He just placed an advertisement in the _Prophet_ —he's looking to hire a Curse-Breaker, one that will be reporting to him directly," Lowell replied. "Your cover already gives you the credentials, and since you actually _have_ been trained as a Curse-Breaker in between your cases, it's the perfect way in."

"As you can see, it makes sense to keep your identity for your job qualifications alone," Dalton added. "But we could easily create a fake identity with a similar background if we needed. However, we have reason to believe that your being a Potter will only… sweeten the pot, as it were."

James's dad grimaced. "What Dalton means to say is that my childhood rivalry with Malfoy—not to mention our department's relentless attempts to bring him down—will make him unbearably curious about you. He's always been keen to get a leg up on me, and he's an arrogant son of a bitch. The thought of hiring my own son—the one who publicly refused to work for _me_ —will be too tempting an opportunity to pass up."

James frowned; he wasn't any happier about it than his father was. He wouldn't have followed his father's footsteps in becoming an Auror if he couldn't handle occasionally being in his shadow, but there was a reason he'd been so keen to join the Undercover Division. Being hired for being Harry Potter's son was not James's idea of a good time, but good times weren't exactly in his job description. If it would help him do his job more effectively, he'd take all the advantages he could get. 

"The _Prophet_ has been playing up our supposed rift for the past three years, ever since I 'left' the Aurors," James mused slowly. "We'll want to make that even more pronounced. Not so much that it's obvious, but enough to help sell my disillusionment with the Ministry. If he's as smart as you think he is, he's going to be wary. Curiosity alone might not be enough."

"Yes, we've already sketched out a few possibilities here," Lowell replied. "We can't have you too eager to throw over your family or Malfoy will be suspicious, but you'll want to imply there's some strain there."

"Especially with me," his dad added unhappily. "Show him some cracks and he won't be able to resist trying to exploit them."

"All right," James said neutrally. Was Malfoy really that obsessed with his dad? From what he'd seen it was _Harry_ who had been following Malfoy's every move, relentlessly trying to find evidence on him that might not even exist. "Have I sent in my application yet?"

Lowell shook her head. "Not yet, no. We've got it right here, but as we said, you have the option to turn this assignment down, so we're waiting for your go-ahead."

James paused and turned to look at his dad, who was staring at him with a resigned expression. "I didn't really think you'd turn it down," he said heavily. "But I had to give you the option. I know you're excellent at what you do, I'm not questioning that. But this assignment is different. You'll still be playing a role, but you'll also be yourself. It's going to be more personal, and it might mess with your head in different ways than you're used to. I'm not telling you not to take it, you're too much my son for that, but be careful, all right?"

A strange shiver of apprehension made its way down James's spine but he shook it off. He was a professional, dammit, and damned good at his job. He could do this.

"I will be," James said, and he meant it. His dad was only looking out for him, and it would do James good to remember that this assignment would have to be played differently than his others. He turned towards Lowell. "Send it off. I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mr Potter." 

James looked up and met the gaze of Jasmine Zabini, Mr Malfoy's personal assistant. She'd been a few years ahead of him in Hogwarts—a Slytherin, of course—and was just as beautiful as he remembered, her curly hair gathered in a poofy topknot, and her slim figure impeccably dressed in the latest of workplace-appropriate fashion. Her father was the Chief Financial Officer of Malfoy's investment firm, so it was no mystery how she landed the job as Malfoy's assistant. Though judging by her keen gaze, it hadn't only been nepotism at play. Besides, James was hardly one to judge considering what people had said about him joining the Aurors. While the file on Malfoy intimated that Blaise Zabini was fully aware of Malfoy's activities—and likely just as guilty—the Aurors were less sure if Jasmine knew what her employer and father were up to. James was of the opinion that a personal assistant wasn't of much use if they were kept in the dark.

If Malfoy _was_ up to something, James's money was on Jasmine knowing all about it.

"This way, please," she said, her voice cool and blandly professional. "Mr Malfoy is ready to see you now."

James pushed himself off one of the ridiculously comfortable waiting room chairs and followed Jasmine, who was already making her way down the hall. She stopped outside a solid wood door with _Draco Malfoy_ scrawled across in ornate gold script. James barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the ostentatious display. Jasmine gestured silently at the door, tapping her foot impatiently when James just stood there. Was he supposed to go right in?

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting," she said pointedly, and James took that to mean _yes_ , he was supposed to just waltz inside. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the handle, and opened the door.

The first thing James noticed was that the room was much brighter and lighter than he'd expected. He'd been imagining some kind of Hogwarts-esque study, all mahogany and jewel-tones and expensive everything. Instead, he was greeted by something much more modern and sleek, with a wall of windows displaying a stunning view of the Thames. The large blonde wood desk faced away from the view, which seemed a shame to James, but what did he know about running an empire? Sat at the desk, looking every bit as delicious as he had in his gala photograph, was Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, James," Malfoy said with a genial smile that made his eyes crinkle attractively. He got up and held out a hand for James to shake, his grip sure and warm. "You don't mind if I call you James, do you? I'm afraid calling you by your surname puts me in mind of your father."

"Not at all, Mr Malfoy." James took the chair indicated as Malfoy returned to his own seat. "Though for most people, that's a good thing."

"Please, call me Draco," _Draco_ replied, smoothing his hands over his desk as he looked at James with a pleasant expression that belied the quiet calculation in his gaze. "And I'm sure you're perfectly aware of the rocky history between your father and I. There's certainly no love lost between us, which is why I was somewhat surprised to receive your application."

There was James's opening. He gave Draco a wry smile. "I'm not my father, his… grudges aren't mine." James shrugged. "He's my dad, I love him, but we… don't always see eye to eye."

Draco's expression was speculative as he gave a slow nod. "So has the _Prophet_ been right all this time, then, about the rift between you and your father? I've made it a personal policy to never trust the _Prophet_ headlines, but everybody was quite shocked when you made it all the way through Auror training just to quit right before earning your stripes."

James grimaced. "Yeah, well. The _Prophet_ does like to exaggerate. Things are"—he hesitated for a few seconds—"fine, between me and my dad, even if he wasn't thrilled when I decided becoming an Auror was his dream for me, not mine. I'm much happier as a Curse-Breaker."

"Of course," Draco said with a wide smile. "Which is why you're here. Though I thought you already had a position with your uncle's firm. Why leave?"

"Yes, I've been working for Uncle Bill for a couple of years and he's been great showing me the ropes. But working for family can be… complicated. I know he means well, but he's a little too overprotective, and it's become clear that there's not much room to grow if I stay there. I'm ready to break out onto my own, and when I saw your advert in the _Prophet_ , it seemed like just the sort of excitement I needed."

"Indeed," Draco said softly. He looked James over slowly, and James was shocked to note the heated appreciation smouldering in Draco's eyes as the man stood and walked around his desk, leaning back against the edge and looking down at James, close enough to touch. "Your C.V. is certainly impressive, and I can't deny you'd be an asset to the team, but…"

James swallowed, and his stomach flipped when Draco's gaze followed the motion with more than idle curiosity. "But?"

Draco pursed his lips. " _But_ I do have concerns about your family. They won't be happy with you working for me. I imagine you're not unaware of your father's conviction that I'm some kind of mafia kingpin."

James let out a wince. "It, err, may have come up."

"I take it you've already told them about applying for this position then?" Draco said with some amusement. "And you don't care what they think?"

"I did, and I don't. It's my life, not theirs. I'm bloody sick of them acting like I'm some child that's incapable of making my own decisions. If you were doing anything bad they'd have already caught you and thrown you in Azkaban. You're offering my dream job at a ridiculous salary, and from what I've seen in the papers, you seem like you've been doing more good in the world than the Ministry or my dad's precious Auror Department, so no, I don't care what they think."

It was a calculated risk, going off like that. There was a chance it was overkill, but James couldn't get away with pretending not to know about the rumours surrounding Draco's questionable activities. He needed to make it clear that he'd dismissed them all as some childhood grudge, and to sow more seeds of discontent between himself and his dad.

"I see…" Draco said thoughtfully, his gaze even more heated than before, as if hearing James rail against the Aurors got him hot under the collar. It probably did. "If I were to offer you the job, you'd be reporting directly to me. You'd have standard hours, of course, but I'd need you to be available to me twenty-four seven." It was impossible not to read innuendo into that line, not with the way Draco was all but undressing him with his eyes. The brief had mentioned Draco's bisexuality, but somehow the possibility of him wanting _James_ hadn't even been considered. It was an embarrassing oversight, and James wasn't prepared for how best to play it. He couldn't deny he was flattered and intrigued by Draco's interest, and it wouldn't be the first time he'd used sex as an in with a mark, but never without being fully prepared first. Being Draco's lover _and_ his employee would only increase his access to Draco, and increase his chances of finding something on him. Still, James couldn't seem too eager, and he wasn't even sure it would be a smart play to pursue it, so he only allowed his gaze to linger on Draco's mouth and hands a _little_ too long, letting his cheeks warm as he looked away and bit his lip. It couldn't hurt to sow the seeds just in case.

"Yes, of course," he replied. "I don't have any other responsibilities, so being on call shouldn't be an issue. I'd be entirely at your disposal."

Oh, Draco _clearly_ liked the sound of that, his pupils dilating and his smile taking on a feral, hungry edge. Looking at him now, James had zero problems imagining him as the mob boss the Auror Department thought he was. The Draco Malfoy in front of him was dangerous, no doubt about it. More worrying, however, was the responding heat radiating throughout James as he looked up at Draco, the unwelcome shock of arousal he'd been trying to fight off throughout this interview. It wasn't ideal, but if he ended up pursuing Draco's obvious attraction, and he was increasingly certain he would be, it would make it easier if he didn't have to fake his own desire. A man like Draco would be able to sniff that right out and James's cover would be blown. No, the fact that James could think of worse things than climbing Draco like a tree was a _good_ thing.

Really.

"In that case," Draco said, reaching out to take James's hand once more. "Welcome to the team, James. I look forward to us working together."

James forced out a beaming smile as his heart raced and his throat ran dry. "Thank you so much, Draco. I can't wait to get started."


	3. Chapter 3

James cast a complex set of diagnostic spells on his flat twice a day—morning and evening— sweeping for Monitoring Charms or Surveillance Spells. In his line of work, one couldn't be too careful, and he certainly wouldn't have put it past Draco to keep an eye on his newest employee given James's family connections. The sweeps consistently came back clear, but that didn't mean there wasn't something James missed, so he did his best to maintain his cover at all times, even while alone at home. Not that it required much effort, given that he was essentially himself, with just a little more animosity towards his family. But it did mean his fortnightly meetings with his Ministry contact and handler had to be conducted outside his flat. James couldn't take the Floo—Floo usage was tracked through the Ministry, and somebody with Draco's connections could likely access that information if he wanted—so at the appointed time, James Apparated to Diagon Alley before immediately Apparating again, this time to the Ministry safehouse that had been designated as his and Hayes's meeting point for this mission.

They changed meeting locations with each case, just to be on the safe side, and though James hadn't been to this particular flat before they all looked the same to him: bare, plain, nondescript. Like low-budget show homes, only more depressing. Hayes was already there, seated at the rickety table with a cup of steaming tea and a stack of parchment in front of him.

"Hiya, Hayes," James said, settling in across the table. The chair creaked ominously, but thankfully it didn't collapse beneath him.

"Hello, James," Hayes said with a smile. "It's good to see you."

Hayes had been with the department for thirty years, though he'd never been a field agent. He preferred working behind the scenes, completing all the necessary legwork that most Aurors found unbearably boring. He'd been James's handler since his very first case, and though Hayes wasn't exactly a warm or effusive man, they got on fine and worked well together. James trusted Hayes implicitly, and he'd yet to steer James wrong.

"How's the Ministry? Got any gossip for me?"

Hayes gave him a flat look, and James grinned shamelessly at him. Hayes did not approve of gossip, much to James's disappointment.

"Better you tell me how _your_ week went," Hayes replied. "How was your first week working for Malfoy?"

"Good, yeah," James said, leaning carefully back in the rickety chair. "He's just had me working on small things so far, probably getting a feel for my abilities and easing me into it before he gives me anything difficult. But so far the job promises to be interesting at least."

"And Malfoy?" Hayes asked, clearly unconcerned about how much James enjoyed his work as a Curse-Breaker. "How are things with him?"

"Also good." James thought back over the past week, the attentive way Draco listened when James spoke, the invitations to lunch whenever Draco didn't have a prior engagement, the lingering looks… "He doesn't seem too suspicious of me—I think he bought the whole rift thing between me and my family, and I've been continuing to drop hints of tension. Nothing overt, just selling the story. Though there's something I'm not sure we considered."

Hayes looked instantly alert. "Oh?"

"Malfoy's bisexual."

There wasn't any need for James to further clarify; Hayes instantly understood, one of the many things James appreciated about working with him.

"Ahh," he said musingly. "You're right. It's in the file, of course, but that was foolish of us not to consider the possibility of his being attracted to you. It could be another in."

James nodded. "Yes, that's what I was thinking. I've been playing it coy so far, indicating I share his attraction but making it clear I see him as off-limits."

"Smart. A man like Malfoy likes the chase. We want him interested in more than just a one-off."

James had considered that as well. It wouldn't do them any good if Draco only wanted to fuck and run. If they pursued this, he needed to keep Draco interested.

"Yeah, and he'd be suspicious if I were too keen. I might be willing to work for him despite my family but sleeping with him would cause more internal conflict, especially with him being my boss."

Hayes tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, agreed. I think we can definitely use this attraction of his to our advantage, though." His expression took on a slightly uncomfortable look. "Of course, you're not obligated to sleep with him. The Ministry would never require that of you." No, not _officially_ James thought with a mental snort as Hayes continued, "I think the flirtation alone could give us an additional edge. It might make Malfoy less careful at least."

James knew Hayes was simply covering his own arse in case there was an internal audit. They both knew that being a prick tease wasn't going to be enough to get a man like Draco Malfoy to divulge his deep, dark secrets.

"I appreciate that, but being his lover would likely grant us even greater access. Especially if I can get him to take me back to his place. I doubt Malfoy's the type for post-coital confessions, and we need more than that to prosecute anyway."

Hayes agreed, clearly relieved at the fact that James had been the one to officially suggest taking that step. 

"Yes, if you have an opening, and you're comfortable with it, becoming intimate with him could make your job easier."

James certainly wasn't _un_ comfortable with the possibility. It would hardly be the first time he'd played the honeypot on a job, though never with anybody quite as attractive and magnetic as Draco. Becoming romantically involved with a mark was a quick and effective way to work his way into somebody's inner circle, and James wasn't so precious about sex that it bothered him to use it as one of the many tools in his arsenal. It was just another part of his job, but he had a feeling with Draco he might actually enjoy it. Which was dangerous, James knew, but a man like Draco would probably get off on driving his partners wild. A bit of genuine desire would be helpful, but James would have to make sure it didn't get out of hand.

"All right, I'll slowly start ramping up the heat. I'll give it a few weeks before I let him finally seduce me, just to make it believable." James winked at Hayes who snorted before his expression turned tentative.

"Given the delicacy of the operation, and the fact that you're only just starting to work this new potential angle, perhaps it might be best if we kept this approach between us, for now? Once you make… contact, I'll have to include that in my reports, but in the meantime…"

James grimaced. That was Hayes's delicate way of confirming that James's dad was maintaining his special interest in the case and might be reading the reports. Harry had been nervous enough about James working for Malfoy—he'd blow his lid when he found out James was planning to sleep with him. Hayes was smart not to give any heads up. His dad might pull James out if he had any warning, but he'd have no choice but to deal if he didn't learn what James was up to until after the fact. 

"Good call. Honeypot missions are always sticky"—Hayes groaned, and James grinned lasciviously at him—"pun _fully_ intended, and there's no point in getting the brass all worked up. We don't even know for sure if Malfoy will take the bait." 

"And by bait, you mean your arse?" Hayes asked drily. 

"My god, Hayes, was that a joke?" James pretended to wipe a proud tear from his eye. "I dreamed of this day…"

"Moving on," Hayes said briskly. "Have you had a chance to interact with any of the people of interest mentioned in Malfoy's file? Obviously Malfoy's your main target, but if you find any evidence on him, no doubt his inner circle will be implicated."

Oh yes, James had heard plenty about _them_ over the years as well in the Potter household, though far less frequently than Draco. Apparently Pansy Parkinson, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Milicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass had all been associates of Malfoy's back at Hogwarts. Malfoy had actually married Daphne's sister, Astoria, and produced the requisite pure-blood heir with a ridiculous name. Little Scorpius would have been in the same year as Albus at Hogwarts, but Draco and Astoria divorced the year before he would have started and apparently she had fucked off to France with Scorpius in tow. The Aurors had thought she might be a way in to Draco, hoping some bad blood between them might get her to spill the dirt. Unfortunately she'd had nothing but glowing things to say about her ex-husband, claiming the divorce was entirely amicable and that he was all but a saint. James was certain the extremely generous stipend delivered into her account every month went a long way towards influencing her opinion.

"Zabini's daughter, Jasmine, is Malfoy's PA. I wondered if there was something hinky going on there, but he dotes on her like a daughter—if they're fucking, it's _extremely_ discreet, but my instinct says no. Zabini's dropped in a few times to chat with her, and, of course, to meet with Malfoy. It's clear they're very close, and seeing as he manages the money, I'd wager there's not a thing Malfoy's involved in that Zabini isn't well aware of."

"Yes, that tracks with past investigations."

"He met with Parkinson a number of times throughout the week, but all of their meetings were either at her PR firm or at lunch, so I haven't had a chance to see them interact or meet her in person. The rest I didn't see or hear mention of at all, beyond Malfoy instructing Jasmine to buy a disgustingly expensive bottle of Ogden's finest to send over to Bulstrode. But he didn't specify what for."

"Hmm, all right. Keep an eye out. And I'll see if I can find any reason why Malfoy would be particularly grateful for Bulstrode. Word is she manages his Knockturn Alley businesses—potions dealing, gambling, loan sharks, brothels, the works." He scanned over his notes before looking back at James. "Anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"Nope. I think I'm clear on the plan, and I have no concerns at this time."

"Excellent, in that case." Hayes stood, gathering the pile of parchments and sliding them into a folder that disappeared the moment he closed it. "I'll see you here in two weeks. You know how to reach me if you need to meet before then."

He waited for James's nod before Disapparating on the spot, leaving James alone in the silent, barren safehouse.


	4. Chapter 4

A bead of sweat rolled down James's face but he did his best to ignore it, grateful that this one hadn't slid into his eye and tried to fuck with his vision like the last one had done. The Dark curses layered over this music box were complex and plentiful, and James needed every last bit of his concentration to focus on dismantling them. It was the first truly complicated and potentially dangerous bit of curse-breaking that Draco had entrusted him with, and James couldn't afford any missteps. Not only because it would risk his position, but as a matter of personal pride. 

He'd been working on the project for nearly a full day now—he was fairly certain the last time the clock in Draco's office chimed, there were six bells, which meant most of the other employees would likely have cleared out by now. James could tell Draco was still there, though, working at his desk and keeping an eye on James's progress. James might have felt bad about keeping him late, but if Draco was displeased about it, he would have found a way to let James know. It wasn't as if James couldn't stop his work where it was and come back to finish tomorrow, but he was so _close_ , and he found himself craving that rush of pride and adrenaline that always followed a job well done.

There'd been thirteen different curses layered upon the music box, all knotted and tangled together, some of them more obvious in order to mask the subtler, sneakier magic. Whoever had enchanted it was a real fucked-up piece of work, that was for sure. But James had managed to separate out the different threads in the first several hours, and after that it was just a matter of systematically nullifying each curse individually. He'd tackled the more complex ones first, knowing they'd take more finesse and raw power. He braced himself as he finished undoing the second to last curse, absorbing the recoil of the snapped magical band with no more than a jolt; these weaker curses thankfully had a correspondingly weaker magical rebound—the first one had nearly broken James's wand shoulder when it snapped.

James grinned and turned his focus to the last remaining curse, a Bone-Breaking Hex that James could remove with his eyes closed—not that he'd ever tested that claim. The lighter task freed up more of James's other senses, and he realised with some surprise that Draco had left his desk and was standing quite near, watching the glowing music box with evident interest. James wondered how Draco had known that James was getting so close to finishing, but he wasn't really surprised. Draco was observant enough to give an Auror a run for their money, and ten times as clever as most of the people James knew on the force. A fact James would _definitely_ not be telling his dad.

"If I tell you to stand back, will you listen?" James asked. His familiarity with undoing this particular hex allowed him to speak while he worked.

Draco's grin was sharp and pleased. "I'm a smart enough man to listen to the advice of the experts I employ, James. I wouldn't be as successful as I am otherwise."

James wasn't sure why such an innocent comment filled him with heat, but it seemed to be an alarming occurrence when it came to Draco. He'd been flirting incessantly over the past month, but it was the seemingly innocent comments that got to James the most. The implication that Draco viewed him as an expert, an equal, somebody whose opinion he valued and whose thoughts were worth listening to. Given his relative youth, it was rare for James to experience such trust. Even at work, where he was one of the Auror Department's top undercover agents, he was frequently questioned by his superiors. Having a powerful man like Draco Malfoy say that he wouldn't automatically push back against James's expertise was a heady feeling.

"Are you telling me to stand back, or was that merely a hypothetical?" Draco asked after a moment of quiet.

"Oh, err, I'm not too worried about this last hex, but I'd have a Shield Charm ready just in case. The recoil should be directed solely at me, but there's a chance you might feel it too, being so close. It won't be a lot, but it can still knock you off your feet if you're not expecting it, so make sure you have a solid stance."

"I'm a hard man to sweep off his feet," Draco said lightly, his eyes flashing with heat as he looked James over. "Though I certainly don't mind you trying."

James didn't bother fighting the resulting flush, though he did give Draco a stern look. "This might be an easier hex for me to diffuse, but that doesn't mean it can't go pear-shaped if I'm distracted."

Draco held up his hands in tacit apology, miming zipping his lips before clasping his hands behind his back, the picture of innocence. James suppressed a snort and turned back to the task at hand.

Only a few minutes later he broke through the last frayed edge of the hex, severing it with a snap that reverberated through his wand arm like a zap of static. James lowered his wand, panting heavily as his work for the day started to catch up to him. He simultaneously felt utterly spent and impossibly invigorated, like he could sleep for a hundred years or run a marathon. He looked over at Draco, who was staring at him with open pleasure and pride, with a heavy dose of unabashed desire mixed in. James wondered if Draco was as turned on by competence as James always had been. He looked gorgeous, still buttoned-up in his sexy work robes, so severe and commanding, an unmistakable air of authority radiating off of him that made James want to drop to his knees. Curse-breaking always gave James the horn, and, well, he _had_ been meaning to make a move. It seemed like this would be a perfect opportunity, so he let himself do what he'd been wanting to for weeks and stepped towards Draco, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss.

If Draco was surprised he didn't show it, quickly wrapping his arms around James and pulling him flush. He let James snog him for just a moment before taking control of the kiss, practically bending James backwards with the force of his lust. James's core went molton hot and he whimpered into Draco's mouth as he clutched uselessly at Draco's robes; he'd always enjoyed men who were a bit forceful in bed, men who knew what they want and weren't shy about a bit of manhandling. James had a feeling Draco would fit his type to a T.

The bastard.

Still, as incredible as the kiss was—James couldn't remember the last time he'd been so thoroughly snogged—it wouldn't do to let himself get lost in it. Not yet, at least. He pulled back, letting his expression slip into something regretful and sheepish and tinged with longing as he put some distance between himself and Draco.

"That… shouldn't have happened," James said. "I apologise. I can get a bit… carried away with all the adrenaline that comes when I finish a big project like this, and you were here and looking so"—he flushed and waved his hand vaguely in Draco's direction—"but it won't happen again."

Draco's lips twitched in apparent amusement as he took a step closer, close enough so that James could breathe in the spicy scent of his cologne. "Now that would be a shame."

"Draco…"

"Yes?" 

"I know you've been flirting, but I figured it was just a bit of harmless fun, you know? I mean, you know you're attractive, and it's not like I'm immune to a hot bloke who can banter, but this is _not_ a good idea."

"Oh, no, definitely not," Draco agreed, a wicked grin on his face. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't do it."

"Erm, that's exactly what it means. You're my boss, and I really like this job."

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "I'm perfectly capable of separating the two, and no doubt you are as well. We're both adults."

"Yes, but…" James hesitated, and Draco filled in the rest, just as James hoped he would.

"There's also the issue of your family. Working for me is one thing, but sleeping with the enemy…"

"Ugh, you're not the enemy!" James replied, emphasising the exasperation. "And I mean, I'm not stupid. Neither of us thinks this would be anything other than a bit of fun; I'm hardly going to have to take you home to meet the parents, thank god, because that would be an unmitigated disaster."

Draco looked rather cheered by the thought. "What a pity. I have a fondness for disasters, you know. Especially when they're at Potter's expense."

"Just because my dad and I aren't on the best terms, doesn't mean insulting him's a good plan if you're trying to get in my pants."

Draco smiled smugly. "I thought you'd said that was off the table. Are you asking me to convince you?" He leaned in, his lips brushing against James's ear. "Do you want to be seduced, James?"

James's resulting shiver was all too real. "No, I—this is just—dammit, Draco, I can't think when you're this close, and this isn't—"

"Go out with me," Draco said, breaking off James's ramble.

"What?"

"Go out with me," Draco repeated. "Let me take you to dinner next Friday. We'll go somewhere outside of London, hell outside of _England_ , so we don't have to worry about the press catching wind and giving your dear parents a heart attack, as delightful a consequence as that would be."

"I…" James appeared to hesitate. He had every intention of saying yes—this was exactly what he'd been hoping for—but he needed to make Draco work for it.

Draco pressed James up against the edge of the table, bringing their groins flush and letting James know that Draco was every bit as hard as he was. James's mouth watered, and if it was any other man, any other time, James would already be on his knees, choking himself on that thick length. But that wasn't on the menu, not tonight, so James forced himself to stand strong, looking up into Draco's magnetic stare. Draco gave him that familiar sharp smile, the one that said Draco was a man who got what he wanted, and ran a cool fingertip down the side of James's face. James couldn't help but press into it, and Draco all but oozed satisfaction.

"Go out with me James. Just one dinner, that's all. If you don't enjoy yourself, then no harm done. But I promise, I'll make it worth your while." James opened his mouth, his expression wavering, and Draco whispered, "Say yes, James."

So James did.


	5. Chapter 5

"How's your käsespätzle?" Draco asked, his pronunciation of the word flawless, unlike James's bungled attempt when he'd ordered. James had already been aware that Draco was a man of many talents before taking on this assignment, but he seemed to uncover new and hidden depths every day.

"Amazing, of course," James replied before taking another generous bite of his cheesy noodle dumplings. He'd never had spätzle before tonight, but he'd definitely be having it again. Though James had a feeling nowhere else would be able to live up to this restaurant's deliciousness. It was a tiny hole-in-the-wall place, tucked out of sight in an alleyway in the wizarding district in Vienna. The kind of family-run restaurant that made impossibly delicious family recipes served with rustic charm. The kind of place James wouldn't have expected Draco Malfoy to be caught dead in. "This is quite different from the last few restaurants you've taken me to."

This was their third date in as many weeks, each one in a different city—hell, a different _country_ —to keep things discreet. Draco had taken him to some of the finest restaurants in Paris and Milan, and though the food (and company) had been amazing, this place was much more James's speed. 

Draco smiled, taking a delicate bite of his Vienna sausage, which had given James all kinds of ammunition for filthy innuendos at the start of their meal. 

"I thought you'd like it," Draco said. "A work associate took me here a number of years ago for a business lunch and I make it a point to stop by every time I'm back in Vienna. The food is unparalleled, and as much as I enjoy a bit of extravagance, sometimes something simpler is required."

James grinned and took a bite, knowing he wasn't imagining the implication of Draco's words. This was their third date, and so far James hadn't allowed Draco anything more than a goodnight kiss. The kisses were… thorough, and thoroughly distracting, and it had taken every bit of James's willpower not to give in and invite Draco up at the end of the night. But he knew Draco would only become more interested the longer James held out, and so far his theory had proved correct. For today's date Draco had pulled out all the stops, whisking James away to Vienna earlier that morning for a day of sight-seeing before this cosy, romantic meal. Draco had—quite casually—mentioned that he had a hotel room on standby in the city that they could retire to if James wanted to stay the night, though he'd made it clear that the option to Portkey back to England as they had at the end of their previous dates was still on the table. James hadn't told Draco yet in so many words, but James had already decided which option he would be choosing tonight.

Every word, every touch, seemed supercharged with the unspoken knowledge of where this evening was leading. There was no sense of urgency, however, no frantic rush or awkward pauses. Draco seemed as confident as ever, content to let the night unfold at its own easy pace. 

As with all of their previous dates, the conversation flowed with surprising ease. Draco was warm and witty and charming, his humour sharp and sarcastic, a trait that had always made James a bit weak in the knees. He answered all of James's questions with an air of open honesty that seemed completely at odds with him allegedly being some kind of underground mafia boss. Even when James asked about more sensitive subjects, such as Draco's divorce and his son, he never seemed evasive. He frankly explained that he and Astoria were never well suited despite their mutual affection, and that he'd actually encouraged her to move to France after they separated—she'd always hated England, and he felt it would be safer for both her and his son given the attitude towards the Malfoy name in Britain, though he'd missed Scorpius dearly. Apparently Scorpius was at some prestigious French university, studying to become a Healer, a fact that Draco was obviously proud of. He didn't seem at all bothered that Scorpius wasn't interested in running Draco's investment company, which, again, didn't at all fit with the usual profile. Keeping the legacy within the family was usually paramount for these sorts, but James didn't believe Draco was faking it when he talked about how happy he was that Scorpius had found his calling.

It all made perfect sense, and James wouldn't have had any reason to suspect there was anything more to Draco if not for his assignment. Even so, James found himself wondering if it was possible that Draco was innocent, if this was all a big misunderstanding. He was generally an excellent judge of character, and though Draco _did_ set off some of James's alarm bells, Draco didn't give him the willies or make the hair on his arms stand on end they way all of his other marks had. Draco was dangerous, no doubt about it, but did that mean he was a criminal?

He wasn't perfect, either, which made him seem all the more genuine, made James think he was getting the real Draco and not just some polished façade. Draco was vaguely condescending whenever James's family came up in conversation, his distaste for them more than evident. He was never outright rude or cruel, though, clearly doing his best to respect the fact that these were people James cared for. James appreciated that Draco made an effort without pretending to feel otherwise towards people he had no fondness for. It made the difference when Draco talked about the people he _did_ care about quite striking. Generally the criminals James brought down were terrible human beings without morals or scruples, but even if Draco _was_ guilty, he was obviously of a different breed. When it came to his friends, the love and pride Draco felt was clear in the way he spoke of them. His so-called "inner circle" were more like family than employees, and James had seen that the loyalty went both ways the few times he'd watched Draco interact with his friends. That wasn't good news for the Aurors if Draco was who they thought he was, because James was certain there was no hope of turning any of them against one another if it came down to it.

Honestly, what had thrown James the most was how open Draco was about his part in the war, the one that had happened before James was even born when Draco had been younger than James was now. James knew that was a large part of why his parents and aunts and uncles all loathed Draco, but he'd never really been entirely clear on the details. James knew the basics of the war, of course, but none of his family had ever been that keen to talk about their roles and what it had been like to live through it. There'd always been a bit of a barrier there, as if they'd all wanted to leave that part of their lives firmly in the past despite the fact that James could clearly see how much it still affected them, even all these years later. Draco had no such qualms about discussing the war, even though his part in it had been far from honourable. But he claimed that in order to learn from his past mistakes he had to own up to them, and he'd been happy to answer all of James's questions, making no effort to excuse his terrible choices or diminish the brave actions of James's family. James knew how involved Draco was in a number of different charities, not only donating an obscene sum of money each year, but working on the boards and volunteering his time, various buildings, and many other resources as needed. Draco wouldn't be the first crime boss to hide his wrong-doing behind philanthropy, but it was clear from watching Draco talk about these causes that he was passionate about them, that he truly wanted to help people. It was difficult to reconcile this charming, generous man (with a smile that made James's heart race) with the man who was supposedly responsible for half the crime in Great Britain.

Not to mention, several of the charities that he supported, and businesses he worked with, were thoroughly Muggle. He seemed more comfortable in the Muggle world than most of James's family. Even James's dad, who grew up with Muggles, didn't spend much time outside of the wizarding world these days and seemed a bit perplexed by the new technologies that had developed since he was a kid. By contrast, Draco seemed perfectly at home wearing non-wizarding suits and using computers and conversing with Muggles. He admitted when James asked him about his past views that he _did_ still worry about how Muggles would react if they ever found out about wizards, but he claimed that he'd grown to appreciate their ingenuity and cleverness, and no longer hated and feared them.

The problem was that James _liked_ Draco. If it weren't for the pesky little fact that James was undercover investigating him for being a criminal scumbag, the man would be pretty much perfect for James. Everything from his intelligence to his sense of humour, his impeccable personal style to the commanding confidence he wore even better than his perfectly tailored robes… all of it hit every last one of James's buttons. He was starting to hope that Draco was innocent, and that was a dangerous position to be in. James was here to find out the truth, whatever it was, regardless of his own feelings on the matter. He couldn't worry about the outcome, he just had to focus on the task at hand. Which tonight, meant letting Draco Malfoy seduce him into bed.

Not exactly a hardship.

"Dessert?" Draco asked as the waiter cleared away their now empty dinner plates. "The Sachertorte here is divine, as is the apple strudel."

James had always had a keen sweet tooth, but as appetising as pudding sounded, he thought tonight it was best to pass. His meal had left him pleasantly sated and dessert might push him over the edge into uncomfortably full, which wouldn't bode well for the rest of the evening's agenda.

"Could we get it for takeaway?" James asked, biting his lip as he looked over at Draco from beneath his lashes. "I don't think I'm hungry enough just yet, but maybe once I've worked up an appetite…"

Draco's smile was wicked and pleased. "An excellent suggestion. Shall I take that to mean we'll be staying in Vienna tonight?"

James let every bit of heat he felt shine through his expression. "If that's still on the table," he replied.

"Yes," Draco said, his pupils dilating. "It certainly is."

It didn't take long for Draco to pay the bill and get their dessert for takeaway, and soon they were out in the cool Viennese night. Draco held out his free arm, and James fought off a blush as he stepped close and looped his arm through Draco's, letting him steer them both towards the hotel. His heart was pounding with nervous anticipation, arousal pouring through him as he gripped Draco's shapely bicep and breathed in his clean, spicy scent. He wondered if Draco tasted as good as he smelled and James stumbled when he realised he'd soon be finding out.

"How much farther to the hotel?" James asked, not even needing to fake the breathless quality of his voice.

Draco's arm briefly tightened around his and he slanted him a heated glance before picking up the pace, all but dragging James down the street.

"Just around this corner," Draco growled, making a Bludger-line for the elegant and obviously expensive hotel the moment it was in sight.

"Good evening, Mr Malfoy," said the sharply-dressed doorman as he held open the heavy wooden doors. Draco gave the man a quick nod and an apologetic smile as he whisked James into the hotel lobby, far too preoccupied to chat. James was grateful Draco had already taken care of obtaining the room, as that meant they could go straight up without having to check in or key their wands into the wards. All the sexual tension that had been building between them for weeks had finally reached its peak, and James didn't think he could wait that much longer before he threw caution to the wind and begged Draco to fuck him over the nearest surface, regardless of who else might be around to watch.

James might have felt embarrassed by his rapidly growing desire, but it was clear Draco was similarly struggling. When they reached Draco's suite, he slashed his wand almost savagely and the door sprang open. The moment they were inside, Draco tossed the takeaway onto the table by the door and turned to face James in one smooth movement. James barely had time to appreciate the display before Draco was pressing James back up against the door and taking his lips in a hungry kiss.

James opened up easily beneath him, arching into the firm press of Draco's body as he ran his fingers through Draco's silken hair. Fuck, but it had been far too long since the last time James had a shag, and he was practically vibrating with the need to get naked as quickly as possible. Draco knew how to kiss—James had already become wonderfully acquainted with that fact—and he was eager to find out what else Draco's mouth was capable of.

"Bed," Draco growled. "Before I take you right up against this door." James shuddered. That sounded perfectly all right to him. Draco chuckled against his lips, clearly reading James's mind. "Maybe next time," he said as he began tugging James towards the bedroom. "Right now I want you spread out beneath me." 

When they got to the bedroom Draco drew him in for another long, thorough snog before pushing him back towards the bed. He crossed his arms and gave James a hot, demanding stare.

"Strip and get on the bed."

Draco wasn't asking, but James didn't mind that one bit. He'd figured Draco would be just as toppy and commanding in bed as he was out of it, and so far he wasn't disappointed. James would have gone along with tonight regardless of his personal feelings—he'd had to do worse to get in with a mark—but lucky for them both James very much got off on being bossed around in bed. He took off his clothes quickly, prioritising speed over sexiness—he could do a strip tease another time, right now he just wanted Draco _in_ him. Draco watched with quiet approval as James tossed his clothes on the floor and sat on the middle of the bed, legs spread as he leaned back on his forearms.

"How do you want me?" James asked huskily, his cock twitching at the possessive gleam in Draco's eyes as he gave James a slow, sultry once-over. 

Draco walked slowly towards the bed as he removed his robes, undoing one button at a time to reveal his pale and surprisingly muscular chest. The tailoring of his clothes seemed almost designed to minimise the strength of his physique, and James's mouth watered as Draco shrugged off his robes and sent them towards the wardrobe with a flick of his wand, unveiling well-toned arms and shoulders James wanted to grip onto. He had a sparse dusting of hair, so pale it was almost invisible, and faint, silvery scars bisected his chest. What really drew James's eye, however, was the thick flushed cock rising up from a thatch of blond curls, mouth-wateringly magnificent. He wasn't porn-star massive or anything, but he was big enough that James would definitely be feeling it tomorrow morning, and the thought made his stomach clench with want.

Draco's hand slid over his cock, spreading precome along the shaft, making it glisten in the lamplight. James licked his lips, and Draco let out a throaty laugh.

"As delightful as I'm sure your mouth is, when I come I want it to be in your arse."

"I could suck you for a bit first?" James suggested hopefully, saliva pooling along his tongue as he imagined Draco fucking into his mouth.

Draco gave him a regretful smile. "Perhaps later. After several weeks of foreplay, I'm already embarrassingly close." His eyes seemed to grow darker. "Now why don't you be a good boy for me and turn over. I've been waiting far too long to see that magnificent arse of yours."

He didn't have to ask James twice. He flipped over onto his stomach so fast his head began to spin; luckily he was already lying down. He spread his legs and arched his back just a little, enough to show off his arse to its best effect. Draco seemed to appreciate the view, running his hands over the globes of James's arse as he climbed onto the bed behind him, settling between James's spread legs. He kneaded James's arse cheeks, massaging his glutes as he stared at James's hole. James pressed up against his palms, wriggling enticingly, hoping to encourage Draco to get on with it already.

"So impatient," Draco chided, his voice rich with amusement. "Lucky for you, so am I."

Something warm, soft, and slippery slid along his cleft before circling his rim, awakening the sensitive nerve-endings. James gasped as Draco's tongue proved to be every bit as talented as James thought it would be, licking at his hole with unbridled enthusiasm. Draco knew what he was doing, and James didn't hold back a single moan of encouragement as he writhed against the bed and humped back against Draco's mouth. Draco seemed like a man who got off on making his partners mindless with pleasure, so James let himself be as loud as he wanted, turning shameless and slutty. 

Draco didn't disappoint, groaning with approval at James's unbridled enthusiasm. A slick finger slid into James's arse as Draco continued licking at him, crooking and finding his prostate with expert precision. James gasped and opened up around it, soft and relaxed and already eager for more.

"Please," James moaned, already reduced to begging. "Please fuck me. Want to feel your cock."

Draco growled and slid his fingers out, dragging his teeth against the meat of James's arse as he sat back on his heels. 

"It would hardly be gentlemanly of me to deny you," Draco said as he Conjured up some lube and slicked up his cock. "Not when you've asked so prettily."

There was no more teasing after that, just Draco's cock pressing against James's hole, sliding in like he belonged there. Draco leaned over James's back, his breath hot on the nape of James's neck as he braced his arms on either side of James's head and began to thrust. He fucked James with hard, deep strokes that lit James up from the inside out. James arched and gasped, each drive of Draco's cock fucking out breathy, needy moans of desire. James wasn't sure of the last time he'd been fucked so thoroughly, so expertly, like Draco's sole aim was to drive James mad. James had had his share of fantastic lovers, but the way Draco focused so intently on James made them all look like selfish twats. A bloke could get used to this kind of treatment, which was a foolish road for James to be going down, so he tried instead to lose himself entirely in feeling, which wasn't difficult given the pure euphoria sliding through his veins.

"Are you close, James?" Draco asked, breathless with exertion. His thrusts had slowly been picking up speed, and James had a feeling Draco was almost there himself.

"Fuck, yes," James whined as Draco delivered a particularly toe-curling thrust right up against James's prostate. His cock was hard and dripping against the bed sheets, the friction and Draco's cock in his arse ramping him up higher and higher. "Almost there."

Draco licked a hot swathe along the back of James's neck before shifting and snaking a hand around James's hip to grab hold of his erection. He began to pump James fast and rough in time to his increasingly ragged thrusts, and pleasure coiled up inside of James before releasing with a dizzying snap, sending molten ecstasy flooding through him. James cried out as he came, clenching down on Draco's cock as he rode the waves of pleasure coursing through him. Draco groaned in satisfaction, and it wasn't much longer before he reached his own climax, biting down on James's shoulder as he came inside James's arse.

James floated for a bit after that, flush with endorphins and lazy with post-orgasmic bliss. He was vaguely aware of Draco pulling out and cleaning him off, but he was content to let Draco do all the work, stretching languorously and rubbing himself against the ridiculously soft sheets. The bed dipped next to him and he managed to summon enough energy to turn his head to the side, taking in Draco, who was sitting in the bed next to him watching James with an indulgent smile.

"How are you feeling?" Draco asked, running a hand down James's back and cupping his bare bum. James let out a happy sigh.

"Ehh, not bad I guess."

Draco gave his arse a smack, and James's whole body grew hot. Draco smirked at him as he settled down into bed. James wondered if he was the type to cuddle or if he'd spurn James's advances now that the fucking was over. James had always been tactile, and never more so than after a good shag. But Draco held open his arms, inviting James into his embrace, and James wriggled closer until he was tucked up against Draco's side.

"I thought we could have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow. Maybe get brunch before our Portkey back to London?"

James hummed and nuzzled his face against Draco's chest. "Sounds great. I don't have anywhere to be."

That wasn't, strictly speaking, true. He was supposed to check in with Hayes this weekend and update him on how the past few weeks had gone. Hayes knew that date number three was when James was planning to take things to the next level, which meant he'd need to officially report on the change in approach to the department. James suppressed a wince. He wasn't looking forward to the inevitable fall out when his dad found out, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Harry had sent him here for information, and James's job was to figure out the best way to _get_ said information and go for it. Working undercover required a certain flexibility that not everybody was able to handle. Then again, James was starting to worry about his _own_ ability to handle it.

Because right now, lying in Draco's arms, James felt content… safe. It was the last thing he should be feeling. He should be plotting and scheming, figuring out his next move, but all he wanted to do was fall asleep while still basking in the afterglow.

Perhaps he'd close his eyes and rest, for just a moment.

Then, he could scheme.


	6. Chapter 6

James paused at the door to Draco's study, cocking his head and listening. The flat was dead silent, the only sound the steady _tick, tick, tick_ coming from the grandfather clock on the other side of the door. Not for the first time, James was grateful Draco had eschewed his family Manor for something more modern and without the traditional wizarding portraits lining the halls. Though there were plenty of photographs of friends and family in Draco's home, there were no talking portraits—Draco found the idea of being watched over and discussed quite disconcerting and hadn't wanted to feel like he was being scrutinised in his own home. It worked to James's advantage now; though he knew several charms to hide his activity from portraits, the spells were finicky and needed constant checking up on to ensure they were still working. Not ideal when James needed his focus elsewhere. Satisfied that Draco was still asleep in bed where James had left him, James quietly opened the door to the study and slipped inside. 

It had been over a month since their explosive weekend together in Vienna and he and Draco had practically been joined at the hip ever since. A part of James had been worried that Draco's interest would fade once the chase was over but, if anything, Draco seemed even more enamoured with him. It certainly made James's job a whole lot easier, though it was unfortunate for him that the feeling was entirely mutual. The more time he spent with Draco the more time he _wanted_ to spend with him, and it made it increasingly difficult to remember that their entire relationship was a ruse. He'd been to Draco's home a number of times over the past few weeks, and this wasn't even the first occasion he'd stayed the night, but it was the first time he was doing any proper sleuthing. James told himself that he was merely being cautious, building trust, but even in his head the excuses sounded weak. 

He was here now, though, and that was what counted. He'd not even bothered getting dressed, just pulled on his pants and grabbed one of Draco's silky dressing gowns before slipping out of Draco's room and heading for the study. James didn't expect that Draco would be keeping any incriminating evidence out in the open, but if there was anything to find, it would be somewhere in here. He started by flicking through Draco's gorgeous mahogany desk, rifling through the papers on top before working his way through the drawers, casting a barrage of diagnostic spells to check for hidden compartments. Luckily he'd done this kind of thing enough times before that it didn't require too much concentration, leaving plenty of brain space free to linger on the thought of Draco sleeping upstairs in his bed, and the way he'd thoroughly taken James apart just a few hours earlier.

James wasn't exactly inexperienced when it came to fucking, but sex with Draco was so unbelievably good it was a little unreal. He'd been ready to write off that first mind-blowing shag as beginner's luck—perhaps Draco was merely pulling out all the stops to impress the first time out the gate, and Merlin knew that after weeks of foreplay it didn't take much to get James going. But the sex, miraculously, only seemed to get better and better, and each time they fucked Draco somehow managed to take James to new and dizzying heights. 

The toe-curling sex wasn't the most worrying thing, though it certainly didn't help matters given it was hard to stay objective when the man James was trying to bring down was giving him regular and spectacular orgasms. The real problem was the fact that Draco actually seemed to _care_ about James, beyond just finding him attractive. He was more generous and thoughtful than most of the proper boyfriends James had had (not that there were many of those, but still) and he was constantly finding little ways to show James that he was thinking of him. Draco seemed to get a particular pleasure in spoiling James and treating him like some kind of princess, and James hadn't ever thought that type of treatment was for him, but he'd learned that he actually kind of loved being pampered. There was something undeniably _nice_ about knowing that when he was with Draco he didn't have to worry about a thing, that Draco would take care of him. James had always been so independent, and even his job required a large amount of autonomy; it had never occurred to him that he might enjoy a relationship with somebody who was able and willing to take the reins.

A few times over the past week James had caught himself daydreaming of being with Draco for real, like they were proper boyfriends without all the ulterior motives. He imagined clearing Draco's name, confirming that he had nothing to do with all the bad shit he was accused of so that he and James could ride off into the sunset together. It was pure folly. Even if Draco _were_ innocent (which James could admit, in his heart of hearts, that he doubted) he still wasn't the kind of bloke James could bring home to meet the parents. Besides, just because Draco was currently doting on James, it didn't mean his interest would last. A man like Draco had no shortage of hot young things to choose from, and according to the intel in Draco's file, he'd not had a lasting relationship since his divorce more than ten years ago.

Still, it was easy to forget about Draco's alleged crimes when he was donating to charities and spearheading campaigns to help the less fortunate. James knew that was possibly the point, that Draco was using his good deeds to sway public opinion and mask his seedier dealings, but it was hard to argue that his "cover" wasn't doing real and tangible good. Some days, James wondered if he wasn't doing more good than the Ministry itself, which was so tied up in bureaucracy that every three steps forward seemed to immediately be followed by two steps back. Draco wasn't so constrained.

Even the criminal activity Draco was accused of, the more James dug into it, the more it made him wonder… Draco might (allegedly) have his fingers in just about every kind of illegal pie in the country, but compared to the crimes of the other people James had taken down in the past, Draco wasn't all that bad. The scope might be bigger, but the crimes themselves seemed less heinous. Hell, criminal activity had been on a decline since Draco's supposed rise to power, and that had little to do with the Auror Department. According to the information James had dug up, a lot of the really nasty suspects that had been on the Ministry's radar—human traffickers, child abusers, serial killers—had turned up mysteriously dead, with incriminating evidence confirming their guilt easily accessible in their homes. James didn't think he was reaching to say that _whoever_ it was who'd started taking a greater interest in Britain's darker underbelly, they had a line they wouldn't cross, and they had no qualms about taking matters into their own hands to ensure the truly evil people weren't able to hurt anyone any longer.

Not that the shit that was still happening was entirely victimless, but it was just about as close as you could get while still managing a criminal empire. James couldn't argue that the activities Draco was accused of made the world a better place, but he couldn't help but think that human nature meant that _somebody_ was always going to be running illegal operations. Wasn't it better if that person had lines they wouldn't cross? If they tried to minimise the damage caused while filling a gap that was always going to exist, no matter how hard the Ministry tried to eradicate it?

James finished checking over the desk while his mind was filled with Draco, and he moved on to the rest of the room. Something drew him to the far wall of bookcases, and though he wasn't quite sure _why_ , he'd long since learned to trust his instincts. He spent several minutes looking over the shelves, checking for possible latches or mechanisms. Draco was a pure-blood wizard through and through, so James didn't expect to find any manual contraptions, but he always preferred to eliminate possibilities himself. It was far more likely that Draco would hide anything sensitive behind security wards, but James had to be careful; the more complex security wards were extremely sensitive and prone to going off at the slightest hint of foreign magic, and James had no doubt any wards of Draco's would be complex indeed.

Luckily James was used to working with sensitive magical objects, so he closed his eyes and concentrated. Uncle Bill had trained him in the art of magic sensing, and James had grown skilled enough that he could feel out different types and strains of magic when he really focused. Unfortunately it came at a cost, which was James's complete and utter concentration for a sustained period of time—something that wasn't easy to come by in his line of work. But finding Draco's magical safe was mission critical, and Draco was still sound asleep in his bed, so James decided to take the risk. 

It took several minutes for James to parse through the extraneous magic in the study—the Tuning Charm on the grandfather clock, the various spells to regulate temperature and whisk away dust, the magic nullification wards around the laptop Draco used for his business dealings with Muggle clients—and focus in on finding the frequency of magic that was associated with security wards. James wasn't sure how long he spent standing there in the middle of the study, his eyes closed and concentration straining, but eventually he found what he was looking for. In the middle of the wall of bookcases there was the undeniable ripple of a security ward—no, of _several_ security wards, at least three going by the slight variations in magic James could detect.

Bugger.

As expected, they felt top tier, and dismantling them was going to be tricky and time consuming. He'd need to tread carefully if he didn't want to risk blowing his cover. James gave himself a bit more time feeling out the magic, getting acquainted with the feel of each strain. It wouldn't be possible to break through the wards tonight, and he'd need to do some more research on the different possible combinations, so he did his best to commit the feel to memory. He'd just broken off the connection and was getting ready to do one last sweep of the study before sneaking back into Draco's bed when the sudden clearing of a throat behind him made James freeze.

"Hello, James," Draco said, his voice mild. "What brings you to my study in the middle of the night?"

James plastered a sheepish grin on his face and turned around, pretending not to see the wary distrust glimmering in Draco's eyes. He held up a book on ancient curses that he'd grabbed off the shelf as he turned around.

"Sorry, did my absence wake you? I couldn't get to sleep and thought I'd try reading." He bit his lip and blinked wide, guileless eyes over at Draco. "Should I not have come in here?"

Draco frowned, and even sleep-rumpled and bleary his presence still commanded the room.

"No…" Draco said slowly. "It's fine. I would have told you if this room was off-limits. I was just surprised when I woke up and you weren't there."

His expression had softened, but there was still a trace of suspicion lingering in his eyes. James placed the book down on the desk and moved closer, letting his expression shift into something sultry and suggestive as he swayed his hips. Like James, Draco was wearing one of his silken dressing gowns, this one a rich aubergine that looked striking against Draco's pale skin. James reached out and ran his hands down the lapels before sliding his fingers towards the knotted belt and tugging at it.

"Well, the best way to send me straight to sleep is generally sex, but I didn't want to wake you when you looked so peaceful. But now that you're up…"

Draco let him tug the belt free and the robe parted, revealing that Draco hadn't bothered throwing on a pair of pants. His cock was already half-hard and James was hit with a bolt of genuine desire as he sank to his knees.

He smouldered up at Draco and licked his lips, satisfied when lust edged out the last of the leeriness that had been glimmering in Draco's eyes. Draco ran his fingers through James's hair, clutching at his curls before gently guiding him towards Draco's waiting erection.

James opened his mouth eagerly, the security wards forgotten.

For now.


	7. Chapter 7

"Tell me you've got something," Hayes said the moment he Apparated into the safe house. He'd not even bothered settling in at the table before launching into James, which James thought was a little rude, even if it was, perhaps, warranted.

James grimaced in response, and Hayes cursed as he plopped down in the chair across from James and ran a hand through his normally neatly groomed hair.

"Fuck, James, it's been six months and we've got fuck all to show for it. If you don't find something soon they're going to pull the plug on the entire investigation."

James hesitated before saying carefully, "Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Maybe I've not found anything because there isn't anything to find."

Hayes gave James a sharp look. "Oh, have you finally managed to crack the wards on Malfoy's safe, then?"

"Not yet…"

Hayes snorted, though the sound was more bitter than amused. "Thought not. Come tell me about Malfoy's innocence after you've gone through whatever it is he's hiding behind a triple layer of the most expensive security wards money can buy." He paused, his features smoothing out into something disconcertingly neutral. "Any update on when it is you think you might dismantle those wards? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say that, given your skill level, you should have already gained access."

James instinctively felt himself bristle, and the fact that Hayes's words hit a little too close to home made his reply sharper than it should have been. "Are you questioning my loyalty?"

Hayes, to his credit, didn't back down, his stare placid and unyielding as he stared at James. "Should I be?"

James slumped, his ire flooding out of him and leaving him drained. Because as much as he wanted to deny it, Hayes was right to be concerned.

 _James_ was concerned.

"No, of course not," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure he was telling the truth. "I won't lie and pretend this case hasn't been more difficult than anticipated, but you know me, Hayes. I'll see this through to the end, whatever that means."

Hayes still seemed worried, but he appeared placated by James's answer. Clearly he believed that, even if James were compromised, it wouldn't prevent him from making the right call in the end. 

James wished he had that same confidence.

The truth was, every day James could feel himself falling more and more under Draco's spell. He was dazzling, captivating, and the way he made James feel… he was leagues above any of the boyfriends James had had in the past. When James wasn't hoping that Draco was actually innocent, James had found himself starting to question whether Draco being guilty would really be that bad. It was an impossible task to eradicate all crime entirely, and the areas that Draco allegedly operated in were run much more cleanly than they used to be according to the Auror Department's records. James knew that once they took down the kingpin and their operations, it wouldn't take long for another person or group to crop up in their place, and perhaps this one wouldn't be quite so concerned with protecting the truly innocent the way the current boss seemed to be. Maybe it would be better to just… let things continue on as they were.

But that was madness, completely against everything James stood for. Just because he suspected it was the nature of things to have some kind of criminal element, that didn't mean he should condone it, that he should let it go unchecked when he could stop it because of fear of what would happen if he didn't. 

"I know you're doing your best, lad, but have you made _any_ progress on the wards?" Hayes asked, his tone gentler now. "They really do seem to be taking a while. Do we need to call in an expert?"

"No! No, I have it under control," James said, trying to hide the instinctive panic he felt at the idea of somebody else poking their nose into his case. "I'm close, really close." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either.

James had yet to actually test the wards, but he was fairly certain he'd managed to crack the right combination weeks ago. He couldn't be sure until he tried it on the actual wards themselves, instead of the ones he'd set up in approximation to practise on, but James was confident he'd be able to effectively and discreetly dismantle them if given the opportunity.

And he'd had plenty of opportunities.

He told himself that he was being safe, cautious, that there hadn't _really_ been an opportunity to break into the wards without potentially getting caught. But that was the nature of his work—there'd _never _be an opportunity that was one-hundred percent danger-free. Taking calculated risks was in the job description, and James knew that he was running out of time. Deep down, James knew the real reason he'd yet to make his move was because he was worried about what he'd find there.__

__He didn't want to lose Draco._ _

__But losing Draco was inevitable. If, by some miracle, Draco wasn't actually guilty of everything he was suspected of, could James really expect that they could stay together given how their relationship started? Even if Draco never found out, James knew the guilt would eat at him, keeping such a large secret. And if Draco _did_ find out… well, James knew him well enough by now to understand that Draco was not the kind of man that could forgive that kind of betrayal._ _

__James knew their _relationship_ was already doomed, so what point was there in delaying the inevitable? But still, James found himself stalling, hungry to eke out as much time with Draco as he possibly could before it all came crashing down._ _

__"Good, that's good," Hayes said, marking something down in his notes. "But James—and I'm not trying to pressure you, I understand how stressful this work already is—but the higher-ups are getting antsy. There's been… talk of the Head Auror wanting to step in. He's been content to delegate oversight of this op to his Deputy Head as usual, but without any progress to show…"_ _

__James heard Hayes's warning. Thus far, it seemed as if his dad was more or less in the dark about the approach James had taken in regards to his relationship with Draco. James knew it would be easy enough for the Head Auror to get the details, which meant if he didn't have them, he was purposefully not seeking them out. His dad was no idiot—more likely Harry had already drawn the logical conclusions and was now working to actively suppress that knowledge for his own sense of sanity. If there was noise about Harry stepping in in his official capacity, it meant none of them would be able to maintain the rosy idea that his dad had no idea how James was going about getting information on his target._ _

__Things were already strained enough as it was between James and his dad, those rumours of tension they'd purposefully spread starting to contain a grain of truth. James hadn't seen his family too often over the past six months in order to maintain his cover of family strife with Draco, but the few times he'd gone to a family dinner things had been tense and awkward. The last time was a month ago, and Harry had pulled him aside before he left, clearly concerned. He'd said that James appeared different, more distant and bitter, his critical comments of the Ministry and Auror Department not going unnoticed. Not that Harry had any problems with his kids having their own minds, but he was worried that maybe spending so much time with Draco and his ilk was having a detrimental effect on James's outlook. It was true that Draco made James see the world in a different light, that he brought up perspectives James had never really considered, though James didn't think that was a bad thing. It was certainly uncomfortable, how Draco managed to make James question so much of what he'd always taken for granted to be true, but maybe that was _good_ , the kind of discomfort that meant he was growing._ _

__But none of that mattered. It didn't change the job he'd set out to do, and it was past time James remembered that._ _

__"Don't worry, Hayes," James said, firming his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "I'll handle it."_ _


	8. Chapter 8

Finding out Draco was, in fact, guilty of everything he was suspected of (and more) was a terrible time for James to realise he was in love with him.

When Draco had announced he'd be spending the week in France with his son, James knew the opportunity to find out what was behind those security wards was too perfect to pass up. He'd modified the wards to Draco's home months ago so that he could come and go undetected, and now that he knew the flat would be empty, it was the ideal time to make his move. Dismantling the wards would take time, time where he'd be vulnerable while his focus was elsewhere, but if Draco wasn't even in the country, that excuse was no longer valid. With Hayes and the rest of the department breathing down his neck, James didn't have the luxury of putting it off any longer. It was time for a reckoning.

The sex the night before Draco left had been explosive, James needier than usual, doing his best to memorise every moment, knowing it was very likely their last time together. He'd given Draco a passionate farewell kiss before he left to catch his Portkey, and then had allowed himself to spend the rest of the day in bed, mourning what he was about to lose.

He waited two days into Draco's trip before making his move, telling himself he was being cautious, ensuring Draco didn't end up cutting his holiday short. James knew he was, once again, attempting to put off the inevitable. It was time to get over himself and do his damn job. The uncertainty of it all was killing him, Draco's unconfirmed guilt hanging over their relationship like the sword of Damocles. It would be better to get it over with, rip off the plaster and deal with the fallout so that one way or another James could start to move on. No matter what he found behind those wards, his relationship with Draco was doomed. The sooner he made his peace with that, the sooner he could start to heal from it all.

It had taken several hours to work through the layered wards, revealing an expensive filing cabinet—James hadn't ever _realised_ filing cabinets could look expensive. James did a quick check to confirm there weren't any additional curses on the cabinet, and when that came back clean, he'd opened the drawers with shaking hands, only to have his worst fears confirmed. He sat in the middle of Draco's office, pulling out file after file that provided records and receipts for all kinds of criminal activity. Illegal potions manufacturing and distribution, pleasure houses, dangerous magical creature smuggling, extensive blackmail and bribery, money laundering, dealing in Dark books and cursed objects and stolen goods… the list went on and on. James recognised the names of many of the criminals and organisations mentioned in the various documented deals, Draco's records providing a missing link for several open cases. The more James read, the clearer it became that Draco was, in fact, _extremely_ influential and well-connected in the criminal underworld. He might not be all-powerful, but if he wasn't _the_ top dog, then he was certainly one of them. 

And James was in love with him.

He thought he had prepared himself for whatever was behind these wards, but it was clear as he sat on the floor, surrounded by the evidence that Draco was every inch the criminal he was accused of being, that James was in over his head. He'd not let himself really think about just how desperately he'd wanted Draco to be innocent, daydreaming of Draco forgiving him for his duplicity and the two of them getting their happily ever after. It didn't shock James, knowing Draco had done the things he was reading about, but he also knew Draco was capable of so much more than pain and destruction. Because the Draco who shamelessly sold illegal books on necromancy to the highest bidder was the same man who went out of his way to stop at James's favourite bakery for the perfect raspberry tart when James had a bad day. It was the same Draco who took him to a different city every weekend and spent hours letting James drag him to all the tourist destinations without a single complaint. It was the same Draco who spared no expense on getting Millicent Bulstrode's chronically ill mother the best in-home care money could buy, allowing Millicent to work her own hours and take as much time off as she needed to spend with her mum. James hadn't ever seen the world in black and white the way his dad and the rest of the Auror Department did—he couldn't have survived as an undercover agent if he had—but Draco had turned everything in his world on its head. Draco was clearly a bad guy, but James knew he was a _good_ one too. Did one cancel out the other? Did the wrong things Draco was doing negate all the wonderful ones?

This evidence was enough to put Draco away for good. That should be what James wanted, to lock up a powerful criminal and make the world safer, but the thought of Draco in Azkaban made James feel sick. Draco was too big, too brilliant, to be shut away from the world in that cold, horrible place. It felt wrong, more wrong than the parchments surrounding James, and _that_ terrified James, too. He cared more about Draco being safe than he did about the rest of the world being safe from his criminal enterprises. Regardless of the apparent moral code of Draco's activities, there were still people being harmed by the potions and the cursed objects and dangerous creatures he was selling. Just because he drew the line at human trafficking and anything involving children or sexual assault, just because he _was_ minimising the harm to innocents, it didn't make what he was doing okay, and it didn't mean there weren't people suffering because of him. And yet… 

"Hello, James."

James's blood ran cold as he raised his head and met the gaze of Draco Malfoy. He was leaning against the closed door to his office, a faintly amused smile dancing across his lips. He didn't seem shocked or surprised to see James, and James wondered how long he'd been standing there watching James deliberate.

"Draco," James breathed, his mind racing as he tried to think of a plausible excuse as to why he was currently sitting in the middle of Draco's office surrounded by the private papers previously hidden behind Draco's extensive security wards. Unlike the last time he'd been caught in Draco's office, he didn't think he'd be able to wriggle out of this one with a flimsy excuse and a blowjob. "I thought you were in France."

Draco's smile broadened, sharp and terrifying, though he didn't seem particularly angry. It made James's stomach clench with apprehension as Draco began to slowly move towards him, a wolf stalking his prey.

"Yes, that was rather the point," Draco said, and James's brow furrowed as he tried to understand what Draco was saying. "I was beginning to think you'd never actually make your move, so I decided to help speed things along. If you didn't take this opportunity to find out what was behind my wards, I figured you never would."

James's eyes widened and his heart dropped as he finally caught on, though his brain couldn't quite seem to believe it. "What?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm going to try not to take it personally that you apparently think I'm enough of a fool not to have seen right through your little ploy to gain my trust from the start. It's not exactly a surprise to me that the Aurors are a bunch of incompetent fools, but the idea that I'd be so blinded by lust and intrigue to override all common sense and trust the son of the man who's spent the last twenty years trying to take me down… Frankly, it would be insulting if it wasn't so damn amusing."

"You mean you…" Had Draco really known this whole time?

"You might have the rest of the world fooled with your dramatic exit from the Aurors," Draco said with an indulgent smile, "but I've always known _exactly_ what you do and who you work for." He waved his hand dismissively. "Know your enemy and all that."

"But then why did you hire me at all if you knew who I was!?" James had been so worried about what his duplicity would mean for his and Draco's faux relationship; he'd never considered that Draco was running his own con. Stupid of him.

"To amuse myself, mostly," Draco said, his lips twisting into a wicked smile. "And because it was inevitable. I've always known it was a possibility that I'd have to leave Great Britain one day and the timing was finally right. I figured I'd see how this played out before making my grand exit if necessary."

"And seducing me?" James asked, knowing he didn't have a right to his hurt and anger, but unable to stop it. "Was that also just to amuse yourself?"

"Now, now, my little undercover darling," Draco reprimanded, his voice chiding. "No playing the self-righteous Auror. Let's leave that to your father, shall we? I couldn't have seduced you at all if you hadn't allowed me to, encouraged me, even. I wanted to see how far you'd let me go, and _you_ were hoping that fucking me would allow you to find dirt on me. You're hardly some innocent."

"I never fucking said I was!" James snapped, feeling frustrated and confused. He just didn't _understand_. Was it all a lie? Had Draco just been playing with him, amusing himself by making the foolish little Auror fall in love with him? "But seeing if I'd let you fuck me doesn't explain everything else. You could have just moved on after I'd let you have me, the way you've done with all the other pretty young things you've fucked. If you knew why I was there why were you so… good to me? Was that another way to _amuse_ yourself, getting me to fall for you?"

Draco's eyes flashed with surprise and then pleasure, as if James had just confirmed something for him that he'd suspected but wasn't quite sure about.

"You weren't what I was expecting," Draco replied, and this time his voice was softer, less smug and amused. "I thought I'd be getting a younger and far more attractive version of your father, all self-righteous bluster, but you're so much more than that. Beautiful, competent, fascinating…" He gave James a heated look that made his breath catch, even now. "The more time I spent with you, the more time I _wanted_ to spend with you, which isn't something that happens to me very often. I liked spoiling you, and I liked how you reacted to me spoiling you." He smiled fondly, like he was lingering over a particularly lovely memory. "Not to mention"—here his smile grew filthy—"how _incredibly_ compatible we are in bed. I found myself… reluctant to give you up."

"If you—" James broke off, swallowed, his throat tight. "If you wanted to keep me and you knew what I was doing, then why let me find these files at all? You could have replaced them with something innocent and innocuous, and I'd never even know. The case would be closed and we could…"

"We could what, James?" Draco asked with a derisive huff. "Blissfully continue our relationship uninterrupted? I'm no saint"—James snorted and Draco gave him a sharp glare—"but you've spent enough time with me by now to know how much I value loyalty. I need to be able to trust the people closest to me. As fun as a bit of cloak and dagger deceit can be with a casual fling, I'm not interested in hiding who I am from a long-term lover. I _don't_ want to give you up, but what we had wasn't sustainable. It was time to put our cards on the table, whatever your decision tonight may be."

"My decision? What decision?! You're fucking guilty, Draco! Guilty of every crime the Auror Department ever suspected you of and a whole lot more they never ever realised you were involved with." James's heart raced as he thought about all the evidence stacked against Draco, and the fact that his hands were tied, that he was going to have to send the man he loved to prison. "What choice do I have to make here? I have to hand over the evidence."

Draco gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "First of all, if you think any of that evidence is ending up in the hands of the Auror Department after what I've just told you, then you're not nearly as intelligent as I thought you were. Every single piece of parchment in that cabinet has been Charmed to wipe itself clean within two hours of being opened." He looked at his watch. "Based on when you got to my flat—and yes, of course I caught that little backdoor you thought you'd left in my wards—and how long it would have taken you to break into my files, I'd say you have another hour at most. They've all also been Charmed to wipe themselves clean the moment any of them leave this property, so don't bother trying to rush the evidence over now."

James had been so preoccupied with rifling through the evidence he'd not bothered with more than a cursory magical check of the files. If he concentrated now, he could make out a subtle magical trace that told James that Draco wasn't bluffing. 

"I thought you said you were prepared to leave Great Britain?"

"I am, but not permanently if I can avoid it," Draco said with a derisive curl of his lips. "And I'm certainly not idiotic enough to personally hand over incriminating evidence to the Aurors."

"But why let me find it at all? Even if I can't show them the physical evidence, I'll still have a Pensieve record. It won't be enough to file any charges, but it'll be enough to maintain the investigation and to give the Aurors more avenues to focus on. I don't understand why you would even give us that much."

"I know you don't," Draco said softly, gently. "But I didn't give it to the Aurors, I gave it to _you_. This is me coming clean, bringing a bit of honesty into our relationship."

 _Our relationship_. Did that mean they still had one? Is that what James even wanted?

"You said I have a choice?"

"Yes, I did." Draco pushed himself off the wall and began to make his way slowly towards James. "As I've already said, the evidence will be useless, your precious Aurors won't have anything substantial enough to arrest me, but as _you've_ said, your word will be enough to continue the investigation. You can do what you set out to do, be a good little soldier and run back to daddy, tell him everything you found out. I'll be gone before you reach the Ministry. You won't see me again, not unless I fuck up enough that the Aurors are able to charge me, but I don't plan on that happening."

James's stomach sank, both from the idea of Draco being arrested and the thought of never seeing Draco again, never holding him or kissing him or waking up next to his sleep-rumpled body. "Or?" James asked breathlessly, dreading and anticipating Draco's answer in equal measure.

"Or…" Draco stepped in close, running his fingers along James's jaw, so gentle and tender. "Or you can pretend you never saw any of this. Tell your superiors that there wasn't anything incriminating behind my wards. They'll shut down the investigation, and you… you'll be free to continue seeing the rakish and successful businessman that you've recently exonerated of all suspected wrongdoing."

James's head spun as he looked up into Draco's eyes, as mesmerising and captivating as they ever were. "But… my dad, my family. Just because there's no evidence doesn't mean any of them will actually believe you're innocent."

Draco shrugged. "I didn't say it would be easy. It just depends on what you can live with." He pushed James back and followed him down, looming over James where he was splayed out on the floor on top of all the evidence proving Draco's guilt. "And what you can live without."

Draco kissed him then, deeply passionate, his tongue sliding into James's mouth with devastating intent as he rocked his groin against James's rapidly hardening cock. As it always did, James's stomach leapt with enthusiastic pleasure, his body melting beneath Draco's beautifully capable hands. This was what James would be giving up if he walked away, and it was clear Draco wanted to remind James exactly how good it always was between them. 

James's clothes melted away with a hiss of magic, and then Draco was sliding down his naked body, kissing and sucking on James's collarbone, his nipples, his sensitive belly. Draco shouldered open James's legs and James didn't resist, too lost in the feeling of _rightness_ to remember all the reasons it was wrong. Draco looked up at him, his expression hot and wild, the way he so rarely allowed it to be outside of bed. James relished in it, fiercely glad that Draco let James see him like this, his polished icy veneer stripped away and his ironclad control fraying as lust consumed him. He swallowed James down, deep-throating James's cock with a skill that never failed to shock and amaze James, even after all these months together. Sucking cock seemed like the kind of thing somebody like Draco would find somehow beneath them, but it was clear Draco had plenty of practice and an honest love for this particular act. Even with James's cock sliding down his throat Draco was in control and he knew it, watching James with smug eyes as he made James fall apart.

Slick fingers rubbed at his arsehole and James spread his legs even wider, encouraging Draco to press right in. He didn't bother easing James into it; he knew how much James loved the stretch, and he pushed inside with two thick fingers, twisting and pressing right up against James's prostate. James jerked, his legs trembling as his orgasm threatened to overwhelm him. But Draco knew him, knew his quirks and his tells, and he backed right off, sliding his mouth from James's cock as he angled his fingers away from James's prostate before removing them as well. James immediately missed them both, but Draco was pressing himself up, bending down to nip at James's left nipple as he settled himself between James's spread legs.

James hadn't realised before, too lost in pleasure, but Draco hadn't removed his own robes when he'd Vanished James's. He was still clothed, the material silky-smooth against James's skin as Draco moved over him. James's cock twitched, likely leaking precome all over the expensive fabric, but if Draco didn't care then James wasn't going to either. Draco reached for his flies, undoing them one-handed and pulling out his cock. James shivered as he realised Draco had no intention of fully undressing. He was going to fuck James just like this on the floor of his study amidst all the evidence of his wrong-doings while he was still fully clothed. 

What did it say about James that it was just about the hottest thing to ever happen to him?

Draco pressed inside, his cock thick and perfect, splitting James open with that exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain that James had come to crave. Draco had provided just enough lube and prep to make things comfortable, but not so much that James couldn't feel the burn and friction as his muscles slowly relaxed and grew accustomed to the cock plunging in and out of him with devastating precision.

It was good, _better_ than good, bloody fucking fantastic, James's toes curling and his fingers clawing at the back of Draco's thousand-Galleon suit as he was steadily screwed through the floorboards. He'd never realised sex could be quite this mind-blowing, causing James to lose track of everything that wasn't Draco's hands and lips and cock. His orgasm rose up within him, as fierce and relentless as a thunderstorm, and this time Draco didn't slow down or hold back. Instead he picked up his pace, fucking harder into James's willing body, the fabric of his suit rubbing against James's throbbing cock with every thrust. Before Draco, James hadn't ever managed to come hands-free, and though it still wasn't a regular occurrence, this wasn't the first time Draco made him come on just his cock. James moaned so loudly it was practically a scream as he hit his climax, spurting streaks of white all over his stomach and Draco's clothes.

Draco growled, bracing himself and fucking James even harder, his hips a blur as he chased his own release. He stared into James eyes as he found it, his pupils dark and captivating as he emptied himself in James's arse. It felt like he was looking right into James's very soul, telling him to choose Draco, to join him. With James's defenses down, he couldn't deny he wanted it. The months spent with Draco had reminded James of his increasing disillusionment with the Auror Department and the Ministry overall, and there was something unbelievably seductive about the thought of leaving it all behind and spending a life of pampered bliss with Draco. But surely that was naïve of him, thinking that he and Draco might really make it. Even if James could turn his back on everything he thought he valued, what happened six months from now when Draco grew bored of him? What would James be left with then?

Draco slid out of him, the aching loss of his cock mirroring the pang in James's chest. He barely registered the tingle of a Cleaning Charm as he slowly sat up, blinking at the study around him in anxious confusion. Draco tossed something his way, and James caught it reflexively, surprised to note it was one of Draco's dressing gowns, the one James always wore when he stayed over. He shrugged it on. Draco had Vanished his actual clothes earlier. If James did decide to go to the Ministry, he could hardly turn up wearing one of Draco's dressing gowns. Another calculation, or Draco simply providing James with something to wear? Perhaps it was a combination of them both, self-interest blending with genuine care.

By the time James stood and finished tying off the dressing gown, Draco was already looking as neat and pristine as ever; one would never even know he'd been fucking James on the floor like an animal just minutes before. Was that their last time? Was it a goodbye fuck, or a celebratory one? James supposed that was in his hands, now.

"I trust you can see yourself out?" Draco asked as he straightened out his cuffs.

"You're leaving?"

"My trip to France wasn't _entirely_ a ruse. I'm afraid I've got meetings in the morning."

"But what about…" James trailed off, not sure how to continue.

Draco gave him a smile, as sharp as ever, though there was a softness in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide. He stepped in close, cupping James's cheek. 

"You have a decision in front of you, my dear. You know what choice I'd prefer you make, but I'm not going to force you, nor am I going to beg. My return Portkey gets in right before work on Monday as planned. I hope I'll see you at the office."

Draco drew James in for one last heart-stopping kiss, and then he was gone, disappearing with the pop of an activated Portkey. James stood there staring for a long time, his lips tingling and his chest squeezed so tight it felt like he could barely breathe. 

What now?

Draco said he had a choice to make, but which choice was the right one? Did he go with his head or his heart? What the world thought was right or what his gut did? Could he really walk away from Draco? 

Could he really stay?

His heart hurt and his head spun, and everything in the world seemed topsy-turvy and upside down. He wished he had somebody to turn to for advice, but James knew this was the kind of decision he had to make alone, and who could he turn to anyway? 

James didn't know what to do, but the clock was ticking.

Next to him, the grandfather clock began to chime midnight.

**Author's Note:**

> [Kudos ♥] and [Comments] are fabulous! I'd love to hear what you think!
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://gracerene09.tumblr.com/)!


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